March 14, 2019

Cocky and self-assured, I’m confident when it comes to my skills both on stage and in the bedroom. Everything in my life is perfect, even if I am the last single man standing in our famed rock band.

But it wasn’t always this way.

Jayla knew me before I hit it big. Back when I was a skinny teen, chasing dreams without a penny to my name. Now she’s back in my life and so much more than the girl I remember. Fiercely loyal, beautiful and badass. She walked out of my life before, and I won’t let that happen again.

They say some songs are better on the second take, and if there’s one thing I know for sure, this is our time for a replay.

Replay is the fourth and final book in the Off Track Records novels, but can also be read as a standalone.

I tip my chin up, letting my head fall back against his
stomach. I catch his grin and let my own lips curve up playfully. Or at least,
it starts that way. Under the heat of his stare and with his hands still moving
across my shoulders in deep, sure circles, my body tenses for an entirely
different reason.

His touch feels intimate.

The way he’s studying me from beneath those dark lashes is
intense. He doesn’t look away, and I couldn’t if I tried. “Honestly, Jay, what
can I do? You shouldn’t carry all this stress.”

“I—” want you to touch me. The words catch in my
throat and hammer in my chest. My pulse gallops and I press my legs together as
the need between them—the need for him—obliterates any rational thought.

I almost say those words aloud.

By the heat in his stare, I wonder if he feels it too.

“Jay,” he whispers. My name on his lips is full of the same
tortured longing I feel down to my core. We barely scratched the surface of
this sexual tension when we were teens, both too young and too naïve to fully
understand the power of it.

Now. Right here. I swear those same feelings have multiplied
and grown. It’s overwhelming. Terrifying as hell. And yet . . . I can’t help
but arch my back even more. I delight in the way his gaze drops to the neckline
of my shirt.

His eyes zero in on my chest and his touch becomes feather
light as his stare takes in the hard peaks of my nipples straining against the
soft cotton fabric. I want him to touch me there. To haul me off this chair and
into his arms. I need to taste his lips as they press against mine. Crave it.

“I have an idea,” he whispers so softly that if I weren’t
watching his lips I would have missed the words.

“Yeah?”

His hands brush along my arms, down to my elbows and then
back up, his fingers so close but not touching the swell of my breasts. “It’s
selfless on my part, because you know how giving I am.” He’s teasing. Joking.
But it doesn’t kill the chemistry that swirls between us. If anything, it only
adds charge to an already building momentum.

His hands slide up the length of my neck, then still as they
cup my face. “I’ll make you feel better. I swear.” He tilts my chin up and my
back arches in response. His body leans down over mine, slowly closing the
space between our mouths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I murmur, completely
fascinated by the heat in his stare, and the way his tongue swipes across his
lips.

“Let me kiss you at least?” He lowers his mouth, his intent
as clear as his words. “I’ve been dying to taste those lips. To see if they’re
still the same.”

“Um . . .” I should feel caged in. Between the chair and the
table, his hands near my throat and his body behind mine, I expect my anxiety
to ruin this moment. Only it never comes. Instead, desire and attraction so
powerful flood my veins. I almost reach up and grab for him.

“One kiss?” He bends, closing the remaining space until
there isn’t more than shared breath between us. All I need to do is close the
space, to nod my consent, and his lips will crash on mine.

Kacey Shea is a mom of three, wife, and USA Today bestselling
author who resides in sunny Arizona. She enjoys reading and writing romance
novels as much as her son loves unicorns, which is a lot.

When she's not writing you will find her playing taxi cab to her children while
belting out her favorite tunes, meeting friends or family for food and to share
some laughs, or sweating it out in the gym.

She has an unhealthy obsession with firefighters. It could be the pants. It
could be the fire. It's just hot. On occasion she has been known to include
them, without their knowledge, in her selfies outside the grocery store.

Kacey one day aspires to be a woman hand model in a sexy photo shoot. You know,
the woman's hand raking across the muscular back or six pack stomach of the
male fitness model. Yep, that hand.

Until that day comes she will continue writing sexy, flirty romance novels in
hopes to bring others joy!

Kacey enjoys interacting with her fans so please feel free to stalk her on
Facebook, Instagram or Twitter.

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